Blood Of The Ancient
by hakuchihirolover
Summary: Angel is doing his guilty champion thing in Sunnydale, helping the Slayer, when a rather extraordinary figure from his past appears, with a rather extraordinary tale.
1. Default Chapter

Blood of the Ancient

Chapter 1

Rupert Giles pushed the doors to the Sunnydale High library open. The self-appointed slayerettes slouched in behind him, talking and laughing together with Giles's slayer, Faith.

The contact that the Slayer had with other young people was highly unorthodox. Willow Rosenburg, Xander Harris and the others had, however proven themselves invaluable many times before. And, since being fired from the Council for refusing to allow Faith to undergo the Cruciamentum, Giles was not so determined to make sure he obeyed tradition. As far as he could see, allowing Faith to have friends had been nothing but beneficial so far.

Xander, Willow, Cordelia, Anya, Tara and Oz flopped down in seats at the library table, while Faith headed straight for the weapons case. Giles sighed and headed for the Watcher's diaries he kept in his private office.

He hoped that the demon Willow and Tara had seen was not too dangerous. He collected several of the appropriate volumes and returned to the main library. He turned then to the two wiccans and asked,

"Willow, if you could possibly describe the demon that you and Tara saw earlier."

The redhead squeezed the blonde's hand comfortingly. After exchanging glances with the blonde wicca, Willow began to try and describe the demon they had seen the night before,

"Well, it looked pretty much like an ordinary demon. But it had this gem thing on its forehead."

Giles nodded and flicked through one of the heavy tomes out on the table,

"It does sound familiar…"

Giles trailed off as he attempted to remember the demon's name.

"It was a Mohrah demon. I killed it."

Giles jumped when he heard Angel's voice. He turned to see the dark-haired vampire emerging from the shadows of the library stacks.

Giles wasn't comfortable about working with a vampire, although it was undeniable that Angel was the anomalous vampire with a soul that he claimed to be. Giles had read too much about the exploits of Angelus to ever be truly comfortable with his ensouled counterpart.

Angel had never truly explained his reasons for helping the Slayer and her friends kill his own kind. However, it was undeniable that Angel had been of great assistance to them, having saved all of the lives at least once.

Angel kept to the shadows as he crossed the library. The sun had set several hours previously, but it was obvious that the vampire preferred to keep out of the light as much as possible. Now, however, was not the appropriate time for these musings.

"Are you certain?"

Angel nodded,

"The blood of the Mohrah demon has regenerative powers, making them nearly impossible to kill."

Xander interrupted then,

"You said you'd killed it, dead-boy."

Angel scowled,

"I said that they were nearly impossible to ill. There is only one way to kill a Mohrah demon, and that is to break the jewel on its forehead."

Giles nodded, confirming Angel's explanation,

"I remember a reference to this demon, but I didn't know about the regenerative properties of the blood. Where did you learn that?"

Angel seemed slightly uncomfortable as he answered,

"I never encountered a Mohrah demon personally. However, I've heard of them, as their blood has the ability to return a vampire to life. I knew someone whose Childe had to be turned four times as they kept picking fights with a group of Mohrah demons."

"It was five times and you know it, Angelus."

If it were possible, Angel seemed to pale. It could not have been at the use of his former name, as most of the vampires and demons they encountered called Angel by that appellation. No, it could only be whoever it was who had intruded.

Giles turned to try and located the origin of the voice. He saw the youths in the room staring at the entrance to the library, so he turned his attention there.

He couldn't help but gasp slightly. The woman standing in the doorway could only be described as beautiful. Her silver-blonde hair was clipped up off her face by a priceless looking diamond-encrusted clip. She was dressed in black leather pants and a black leather bustier. She wore a black leather duster over this and a pair of black stiletto boots on her feet. Her skin was so preternaturally pale as to be luminescent in the moonlight that streamed in through the corridor.

She wore little jewellery, and elegant silver ring on her right hand, with an ornate design etched upon it. An emerald and diamond drop necklace hung down on her curving, pale neck. The stones glinted in the moonlight, reflected in her hazel-flecked green eyes.

Her face was shadowed but the glitter of liquid in her eyes was plain to see. There was a rich smell, like expensive perfume, that filled the room as one tear of blood traced a dark trail down her flawless cheek.

Giles managed to drag his gaze away from the beauty in front of him to see the effect this woman, if such a crude word could be used to describe such elegant and refined beauty, had on Angel. Abstractly, he noted that he had never seen the vampire looking gobsmacked before.

The look on Angel's face was a curious cocktail of emotions. Fear, shock, horror and dismay were clear in his tortured brown eyes, but also there were emotions that Giles did not normally associate with the dark, brooding vampire. There was delight and amazement, adoration, adulation and love. But then the vampire's face hardened and his posture straightened. When he spoke, his normally sorrowful voice was glacial.

"I don't use that name anymore, my Lady."

Giles risked another glance at the vision of beauty before him. He now realised that the woman had to be a vampire, probably an old and powerful one at that. Nonetheless, there was something magnetic about her presence. She spoke again, her voice soft and full of grief,

"Oh, thank God. I need your help."

The look on Angel's face now was one of complete and utter shock, with more than a little bit of disbelief mixed in.

"You need my help?"

The woman looked more than a little bit annoyed,

"No, I cam to this town because I actually wanted to hang around with a load of dead-beat vamps who think that unliving for a couple of centuries gives them the right to call themselves master. If I wanted you to repeat everything I saw, Angelus, I will tell you so. The same goes for being a smart-ass. So, until I say otherwise, can it."

Instead of taking offence at this tirade, Angel looked somewhat abashed and repentant, though for what Giles could not understand.

"My apologies. I was somewhat surprised at your request. Why do you require my assistance, and how may I best offer it to you?"

A look of extreme gratitude flickered on the woman's flawless, but cold face. When she spoke again, her voice was barely more than a tremulous whisper, so soft that it was barely audible, at least to Giles's mortal ears.

"I had heard that… I thought that… you're the only one that can understand… the only one who can help me…"

Angel looked honestly confused now,

"What will I understand?"

The woman shook slightly, now so delicate now that it appeared that even the slightest wind might cause her to crack.

"My soul, Christ, Angel they restored my soul."

TBC.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

After the stranger said this, it seemed that all the energy had gone out of her. It was as if this knowledge, as well as the imperative to deliver it to another, had been all that had been supporting her. She collapsed suddenly, her slender body folding in on itself like a leaf in the wind.

Before she could hit the floor, Angel emitted a growl and rushed forward, almost too fast for the human eye to follow, so great was the imperative not to let this vision be harmed. He lifted her reverently in his arms, cradling her gently like he would a child. He stalked over to the long library table, and, with a violent sweep of one arm, shoved everything into the laps of the stunned figures seated there.

Giles would have made to protest, but the words died on his lips before they were even formed as he saw the vampire's furious countenance. It had been so long since he had been really, actively afraid of the former Scourge of Europe. Maybe he should have remained afraid, for, no matter its livery, a cart-horse will forever remain a cart-horse. The look on Angel's face was a truly terrifying one to behold, particularly for one who had studied the actions of Angelus in some detail. It was not the sadistic smirk he recognised from the few paintings of Angelus that remained. This bestial fury was something absolutely new and different, and it scared the watcher. Angel had always been retiring and, from his studies of Angelus, Giles knew the vampire to have been something of an artist in his torture, taking great pride in his 'work'.

With a reverence that contrasted sharply with the barely restrained fury on his face, Angel gently lowered the body onto the polished table-top. He then ripped off the black leather duster he wore and carefully arranged it over the slim body. He then pulled off the maroon velvet shirt he wore and folded it into an impromptu pillow. Then he carefully raised the blonde head and gently placed the folded shirt underneath it. Letting the woman's head lie back on the velvet support, he gently traced the elegant line of the woman's face with one long finger.

Blood tears had stained crimson tracks down the flawless alabaster skin. A dark growl rumbled from the cavern of Angel's chest. The dark vampire tore his hand away from the smooth flesh and began to pace, the gryphon tattooed on his scarred, muscular back rippling with barely constrained fury.

Giles desperately wanted to know who the woman was, that Angel was simultaneously so in awe of her, yet so protective. The way the woman had spoken of centuries as if they were nothing intrigued him. She had to be very old, maybe even having lived through may millennia, yet she was still here. Giles had never heard of a vampire that old. Indeed, he considered Angel to be one of the eldest vampires he had ever known.

Yet Giles dared not ask. While this woman intrigued him and incited his curiosity, she also terrified him in a way she did not fully understand. He did not know why he feared her, all he understood was that something about this beautiful woman was more terrifying than anything he had ever faced before, including more than one attempted apocalypse he had been witness to.

Also, Giles feared Angel's reaction. He could not recall ever seeing the dark-haired vampire showing any emotion other than the tortured regret that was the gift of his curse. Giles did not want to find out whether or not Angel's soul would protect him if the vampire thought him a threat to this vision.

Xander however, shared none of his concerns, either that or was once again showing his complete lack of common sense in matter concerning Angel. The boy scowled at the vampire as he arrogantly asked,

"Dead-boy, what the hell's going on?"

The sound that emanated from Angel's mouth was somewhere between a snarl and a growl. For the first time since he had discovered the existence of Angel's incongruous human soul, sharing a body with his demon, Giles feared for the safety of one of his charges with the obviously furious dark-haired vampire.

Angel whirled on the foolish boy and, for one terrible moment, Giles feared that the vampire's tolerance of Xander's idiocy had reached its limit, but he had to admit, though he would never admit the admissal, that no person or creature could be expected to put up with Xander Harris's foolishness without a limit. But then something happened that may well have saved Xander his life, or at least a few of his limbs.

From the table where Angel had lovingly bestowed their mysterious guest, a soft moan emanated that was somewhere between a whimper of pain and a groan of exhaustion. Angel immediately whirled on his heel and ran to the head of the table. It was as if Xander had never spoken, as if none of them even existed.

For one moment, it appeared as it Angel was going to place a supporting hand on the woman's slender shoulder, maybe to stop her from standing up, maybe to offer mental support through physical contact. Then, Angel withdrew his hand, the expression on his face something like regret.

Infinitesimally slowly, the woman's painted eye-lids fluttered open to once again reveal her captivating hazel eyes.

Seeing Angel, loving familiarity began to war in her eyes with the grief that Giles recognised from Angel's own eyes. It made him wonder just what the relationship had been between Angel and this captivating female vampire, who now claimed to be the second ever vampire with a soul.

Then the shimmering hazel orbs landed on Giles and the others in the room. The captivating orbs widened with fear and recognition when they landed on Faith, immediately recognising her as the Slayer.

Then that fear slowly disappeared, as if the Stranger was remembering somethin that rendered the earlier fear obsolete. Giles was afraid, for it was not arrogance that now shone in those piercing hazel eyes, but a quiet self-confidence. Giles could not remember any demon that looked that calm when faced with the Slayer.

As the woman slowly sat up, her expressive eyes showed that she was now assessing the room for potential threats and the necessary escape routes. As she had been here for a time before she collapsed, Giles found this evaluation somewhat odd until he realised something that he had overlooked. The woman, whomever she really was, had been utterly focussed on seeking out Angel and delivering her plea for assistance, not focussed on taking any detailed note of her surroundings and the people around her.

Once she had finished her cursory assessment of the dangers in the library, the stranger turned her penetrating eyes back to the impatiently waiting Angel. Neither of them could quite make eye-contact with the other. It was as if Angel was desperately trying to instigate the contact and the woman was determinedly looking anywhere but into his eyes, as if through the contact she would reveal too much to him and lose whatever protections she had left.

She looked down in her attempts to avoid eye-contact and, for what seemed to be the first time, noticed Angel's leather duster pooled around her toned slender legs, in a sea of creased inky blackness. Gently, she carefully lifted the jacket from around her legs that were so pale they could have been living marble, and turned to place it behind her. It was then that she also first noticed the maroon velvet shirt Angel had folded into an impromptu pillow for her.

She lifted the shirt from the library table and handed it back to Angel, not removing the long silver blonde hair that was coiled around one of the black buttons. The tall, dark, brooding vampire slowly lifted the shirt, reverently lowering it over his head.

The beautiful vampiress gazed in a very conspicuous manner as the expensive maroon velvet hugged Angel's defined chest. The other vampire tugged on his leather duster, before chivalrously turning to respectfully offer the captivating lady his hand to assist her in rising.

The vampiress was not impressed by this and scowled at him,

"Angel, I've gotten my soul back, not been grievously injured. I'm still perfectly capable of standing for and taking care of myself."

Angel withdrew his hand immediately, looking an odd mixture of being both abashed and slightly irritated. The vampiress scowled again at him as she elegantly and gracefully rose from the library table,

"Where are your manners, Angel? Introduce me. I know I taught you better than this and hope dearly that you at least retained some social graces when you descended into your rat-eating phase."

Xander snickered at the obvious chastisement and Angel glowered darkly at him before returning his attention back to the mysterious lady.

"Your education, however overly thorough it was in some less socially acceptable aspects, was distinctly lacking in any training in etiquette."

The woman fixed Angel with a mock glare.

"Very funny. I see that your soul has turned you into a regular comedian. If I had been concerned with the opinions of mere mortals during the period of your tutelage, perhaps it would have been part of your education, which, as you said, was very thorough. But, that is irrelevant, and you still haven't introduced me to your new friends and are now trying to distract me from this fact by acting like an utter smartass, not that this is a new pattern of behaviour for you."

Xander choked on his own breath at this sarcastic comment and Angel fixed him with an impressive glare before acquiescing to his lady's request and beginning to make the ordered introductions.

"Very well, as you wish my lady. This is Faith, the current vampire slayer on the Hellmouth, and her watcher, Rupert Giles."

Giles, in his dedication to the accurate transmission of facts, found it necessary to interrupt at this point.

"Well, technically I am no longer Faith's watcher. I was appointed Faith's watcher after her first watcher was killed, but the council fired me for refusing to co-operate with their planned Cruciamentum for her. Faith quit the Council at a later date and we now have little contact with them."

The woman scowled impressively,

"They still operate that ridiculous and barbaric procedure?"

Giles nodded regretfully,

"Yes, it is still status quo, although slayers now very rarely actually make it to their eighteenth birthday. Certain members of the council are against it, but they are still very much in the minority."

The woman scowled harder,

"Yes, I know all about the anal habits of that stuffy group of Englishmen. I just happen to find the ritual execution of the few slayers that actually reach their eighteenth birthday somewhat, distasteful. It is the way of a coward to operate in such a manner and an ignoble and undeserved death for the fine warriors that actually survive under the Council's ignorant and impractical training methods."

Angel frowned at this passionate declaration, before he sighed and continued with the interrupted introductions,

"This is Willow Rosenburg and Tara Maclay, they are both highly powerful Wiccans who have proved invaluable in the fight. Sitting by them is Daniel Osbourne, more commonly known as Oz, he's a lycanthrope, but he is one of the few who does not allow his beast to control him. Well, I believe that you and Anyanka are already well acquainted, so I see no need to make introductions there, except to say that Anyanka is no longer a vengeance demon and goes by the name Anya Jenkins. The girl with the nail file is Cordelia Chase. She, well, she cheerleads. And, as every village needs its own idiot and the hellmouth needs one to match that, this is Xander Harris."

Xander scowled and the others laughed, even this strange woman smiled slightly, a look that lit up her entire face. But, then she schooled her face into what was obviously a failed attempt at a chastising look. She turned to Angel and said,

"That's very inventive of you Angel, I'm sure that it's only been used an infinite amount of times since you were turned, saying nothing of when I was turned."

Angel scowled,

"I didn't know they had villages when you were turned."

The strange woman laughed slightly,

"Yeah, we had a couple."

Angel smiled at her and for a moment they both stayed quiet, looking into each other's eyes. Then the woman spoke again, her voice slightly impatient,

"Yes, well, this is very entertaining, but are you going to introduce me, or do I have to do it myself?"

Angel sighed and gestured to her,

"Perhaps, it would be better if you did, my lady. I would not be certain in which way to begin."

The woman sighed and turned to the others,

"Seeing as Angel is incapable of doing so, I will have to introduce myself. My first name was long ago lost in the passage of time, and I have been given many through the ages. The name by children give me is Lady Amalabeth, the church named me Lilith and nowadays I go by Buffy."

Angel snorted,

"Buffy, where did that one come from?"

'Buffy' sighed,

"Don't ask. Anyways, I think I've killed your friends."

Angel rolled his eyes as the two of them turned to face the group. It was a rather shell-shocked group that faced them. Well, Giles and Willow looked as if they were two seconds away from passing out in shock and the others were reflecting their shock, merely out of the fact that they were so shocked being reason enough for the others to be equally stunned.

Finally, Xander managed to produce that rare thing which was one of his independent thoughts and asked,

"Hate to ask the obvious, but what exactly does that mean?"

Giles was the one who answered in the end, his voice rather dazed as he did so,

"It means that she's the first vampire, the one who was made by the pure demons as they left this world."

TBC.


End file.
